In A Flash
by MiaGhost
Summary: Mirage has never been a worrier. Nope. Well. A bit. But not like this. Okay, Elliot? Elliot worries. Sometimes. So what. But Mirage? Mirage is happy-go-lucky. Mirage is strong. Mirage doesn't freak out inside when he needs to be focusing. And as if that isn't enough, now Wraith is starting to look worried. Which is worrying, you know? (Companion to Fermented Milk Proteins)
1. Chapter 1

~.~

Mirage crumpled against the wall from the blast, ears ringing from the crack of his head against the concrete. He wheezed, blinking hard and shaking his head like a dog as his hands scrabbled over the dust and rubble on the floor. He was flooded with the panic that had been plaguing him so much recently, and with both his squad out of sight his imagination was running wild.

His gun. Where was his gun?

Choked coughing rose from his left and his head whipped up to try to see. People were moving around, but his head was spinning funny and the smoke had shadows that danced when there was nobody there, he knew that. His heart was racing hard against his surely broken ribs. The room was full of damn smoke and falling dust from the explosion, there was no way for him to tell if the sound was friend or foe and-

Mirage shook his head again, and tried to fight the panic in his breath as he searched for the _goddamn_ gun-

His fingers curled around the handle and he drew it up, pulling back the slide as the cough came again.

There was a way for him to know. He had ears, didn't he?

He fired in the direction of the coughing, praying his hits were landing as someone started yelling across the cavernous room. Shield-light flashed in the plumes of smoke, and then the yelp and nothing more. His PDA pinged, and he grinned.

Enemy. Duh.

The sound of a shotgun blast close on his right made him jump so badly he fell back on his ass. Then a clinking sound that shot him with relief. Path, that was his grapple. So he was up, at least. That only left-

"You'll get shot, sitting there."

Her hand grasped his shoulder as he turned to see her materialise at his side, and his witty retort wilted on his tongue when he saw her face just before she dragged him into her Void tunnel. There was blood streaming down one side, enough that only the silver-filmed blue of her eye stood against the red. His gut flipped as his uncooperative legs hastened to keep up with her as she took him out of the danger zone.

She dropped him unceremoniously against the rock wall, the spot mostly shielded from prying eyes. She was moving fast, her backpack open as she dragged out supplies, and Mirage felt oddly like he was somehow running slower than she was. He blinked at her as his brain went blank, like a hiccup, before the reality sank in and he reached out to touch her chin. Wraith stilled, but his touch wasn't invasive as he turned her head so he could better see her head wound.

"I can get it." she murmured, averting her eyes from his because she knew he'd see that she knew how bad it was, but his fingers lingered a second longer than he told them to.

Her lips twitched a little at his obvious concern as he let her go and he realised, as heat bloomed in his chest, that three years ago she'd have done more than just almost-smile.

"Fix your leg." she motioned as she tore open a wipe from her medkit, and her smile appeared properly when he looked down, surprised at the sight of the rend in his combats, the blood-soaked material.

"You'll be lucky if it isn't broken." she added, and maybe it was his probable concussion talking, but she sounded kind of worried, under that streak of amusement and the colour of her professionalism.

Pathfinder had cleared the room of usable loot and joined them, so the anxiety under Mirage's skin eased a little. Their respite was brief and seven more squads still stood between them and their Championship. Mirage spent the remainder of the Game with the strange new worry in his gut despite having both his team close at hand.

~.~

Mirage pressed himself into the corner as his decoy dashed out the door, his almost empty pistol clenched tight in his hands. A tremor ran up his arm and he shook it out with a long, silent breath. Above his head, the footsteps reacted, and their gunfire chased the hologram out the door. The body hopped the balcony and landed in front of him, and he fired. His clip broke armour but they didn't stop, obviously considering it a bad idea to stay and fight with no shields.

Mirage let out his breath, relief making him weak as he barked into his comms and heard the voices of his squad as they instantly responded. He slid down the wall, shaky, completely out of ammo and praying he'd be left alone till his team arrived.

He couldn't sleep when it came his turn to that night, instead lying in the dark listening to the quiet murmurs of Pathfinder and Wraith and worrying that he was letting them down a _lot_ recently. Worrying that eventually they were going to decide he was a liability, and replace him. Worrying that somehow he'd lose them, or find out they weren't as fond of him as he was them.

The same worries had plagued him before, though not to the same extent. It had been months of this, this ridiculous insecurity that caught him when adrenaline left him weak, and whispered to him in the night. They'd been stupid three years ago and were stupid now, but no matter how he scrunched his eyes shut and counted his breaths, he was still left feeling stupid and childish and unable to stop _worrying_.

~.~

"Wraith!"

His hand caught her shoulder as she let out a strangled kind of cry, and his thundering heart forced his blood around his body in a sloshing, racing mess. Together they watched the other legend disappear, the clouds swallowing him as if he'd never even existed. Mirage's palm was sweating against the back of Wraith's shirt, but her free hand crossed her chest and came up over her shoulder to squeeze his wrist tightly. He pulled her upright and away from the drop. When she spun to look at him his brain jarred. All he could do was stare at her as they both caught their breaths in heaving gasps.

Her blue eyes bored into his and for a dreadful, endless second, he tortured himself with the knowledge that if he'd been just a _second_ slower, tripped, missed his stride, missed her _shoulder_, he wouldn't be looking at her right then. It was like all his fears and nightmares were coming true, slithering from the walls of his head to torture him. He felt his eyes sting with tears, and opened his mouth again, searching for words, any words, something to fill the silence as they stared at each other.

Wraith's eyes changed, and her she reached out slow fingers for his face. His stomach lurched, what was- her thumb brushed his chin, fingertips ghosted up his cheek and Mirage was starting to wonder if maybe, maybe she-

Her hand drew back, and when she twirled her find in the space between their faces, somehow she made everything better.

"You nearly ruined your hair." she whispered, and then she chuckled, watching him stare at the perfect green leaf she'd plucked from his hair.

A voice in the back of his head tried to remind him that it must have gotten there during the struggle, or his race to save her from a certain, irreversible death.

But Wraith's eyes were warm as she motioned for him to follow her away from the edge of the floating island, and he forced the fear away.

~.~


	2. Chapter 2

~.~

"So we're looking for Pathfinder, front and centre, can you- just like that. Okay, Wraith, you good? Good, okay-"

Mirage took his place to Pathfinder's left, moving his limbs as directed, angling himself over the blue arm, settling his palm over Wraith's forehead. He was acutely aware of the moment this pose reminded him of, a memory almost as old as their partnership. An unpleasant memory for them all, the Game they'd nearly lost Wraith for good.

There was no doubt she was thinking of it too. He'd put his money on it being something she would never forget, basing his guess on what he knew of her and on the memory of how long it had taken him to coax her into speaking to him again after. He'd seen how reluctant she was when she read the card, but she'd agreed before he had a chance to disagree and so he'd kept his mouth shut.

Pathfinder adjusted his grip, the photographer made a few tweaks, and then they stood for the flash.

It wasn't until Wraith was back on her feet and brushing off her embarrassment that he noticed how she avoided his eye. It took him several seconds further to realise he'd been stroking her neck, and his face flooded with heat.

He was usually so much better at controlling himself, and mentally kicked himself for letting the urge to comfort her slip by unnoticed.

~.~

Despite the sound of their victory, the music loud and triumphant as it blared across the Arena, Mirage's heart still beat unevenly as though his chest was filled with syrup. He'd nearly dropped that kill, because Wraith was so close to losing her shields that he'd panicked.

What was _wrong_ with him? He was all over the place lately. He was letting his team down.

He barely registered Pathfinder's heavy metal arm slung over his shoulder as they waited for the ship coming to collect them, his head a hundred miles away as the Medics poked and prodded at his wounds.

He didn't even feel himself by the time they were released from the MedBay, when he was walking down the hallway to his room. He missed Wraith. He missed Pathfinder. They'd been separated less than an hour while they each got checked over and mended, but he felt lost without them.

For what might have been the first time, Elliot Witt showered and dressed for a meet-n-greet he wished he didn't have to go to.

~.~

She dragged him behind cover, her eyes wide with worry when he met them. She covered it swiftly, probably from realising he was mostly in one piece, but seeing it was strange and unnerving. Wraith rarely looked worried, at least _that_ worried. It reminded him how much he really idolised her, even though he'd always tried not to.

But it was also… kind of reassuring. The chilling anxiety that had been living like a hostile dragon in his gut for so many months seemed to flinch from it, the knowledge that maybe he wasn't as broken as he thought, if even _Wraith_ was worried.

He fixed his shields with a renewed determination, covering her back as he followed her back into the fray. For a few hours, he didn't hesitate. The worry kept at bay, he was strong again, throwing his weight into the battle like his old self, and winking grandly at his squad when it was he who tore victory from the enemy team, killing two of the three by himself.

~.~

He tried not to let her see how much he hoped she'd agree. The request wasn't _too_ intimate, if maybe mildly awkward for her. He just kinda… okay, he _really_ wanted to take the excuse to dance with her just a tiny bit. She never joined the people on the dance floor at parties, what few he could convince her to attend. Too many people too close. He could understand that, but…

Any excuse to dance with her was an excuse he wanted to make. He couldn't help it, had long since stopped fighting the love for her that sprung, unbidden, in his chest. He wouldn't do anything to risk their rhythm, and he knew she didn't feel the same, but hey.

It was just for the cameras, right?

Just two friends, having a bit of fun. What was the worst that could happen? He grinned at the audience, and turned to her again.

"Wraith?"

She finally looked at him, and he wondered if she could see it anyway, how much he wanted to. His heart tripped a little when she agreed, handing the card away before she turned to him proper, meeting his eyes again with a look that invited him to take charge.

He offered his hand, pulling her closer when she took it. Her hand was cool in his, her skin a good degree colder than his despite how warm the room was. He held her closer still, slipping an arm around her waist as he began to lead, unable not to hear the music in his head as his feet moved. She followed him step for step, their chests brushing on each turn, enjoying having a moment to watch her eyes as her thoughts played through them, until he didn't dare stretch it out much longer.

With a simple shift of his weight, he lowered Wraith into a shallow dip, holding the pose for the camera, hearing the delight of the gathered crowd. Her eyes held his, their faces mere inches apart, and Elliot's heart pattered almost painfully with longing.

They must have looked as good as he thought, too, because they got a round of applause. Mirage grinned at the pink that dusted Wraith's face when they did.

"Perfect!" was his cue to raise her, the photographer moving on swift and professional.

It was just as well, for Mirage wasn't sure he could form real words right then. Wraith's hand squeezed his shoulder and she looked at him in amusement. Man, he loved her.

"You managed not to drop me." she said, sounding amused and surprised, surprising a chuckle from his throat.

"You weigh nothing, Wraith" he answered, pulling a face and giving her a gentle shove to relieve some tension, "You calling' me weak?"

She only laughed in answer, but it was the best sound he'd heard all day.

~.~

Mirage drew back from the high window, lowering the scope of the sniper he'd been using to watch the expanse of sand they suspected their opponents would have to cross soon. The last thing they needed was to be surprised by an incoming team. It had been a rough Game and they were all tired, hot, and low on patience. Wraith's eyes were exhausted, her whole body screaming that she needed a nap when she leaned heavily against the wall beside him. It had been rough on her, all the running they'd had to do because they'd had such bad luck on loot.

He knew that every time she saved him and Pathfinder by escorting them through the Void, it drained her. He felt guilty, and for a single uncomfortable second he looked at her and didn't see _Wraith, deadly Champion, Inter-dimensional Skirmisher. _For a second he looked at her and saw a pale, exhausted friend who looked like she needed a hot meal and a hug.

Ha. If he hugged her she'd hurt him.

But there was no harm in trying to make her smile. Her gaze rose from the floor when he hadn't answered and so he gave her his widest grin, watching the anticipation reach her eyes.

"If you weren't such a short fry, you'd be able to see- _oww_!" he laughed, dancing from her reach as she made to punch him again, "Okay, okay!"

Her cheeks were a little pink, and he wasn't sure if it was from the sun they'd not long escaped from or because of his teasing, but either way he had to admit it looked fetching on her. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he realised he was staring.

"Sometime we'll find a way to show you what you're missing." he said, inevitably finding his thoughts slipping elsewhere as he heard the double entendre in his own words.

He winked at her and she hit his arm again, so he shoved aside the thought of kissing her senseless the moment she realised they had chemistry. Her wry smile was worth it though, and he grinned as he returned to his job as look-out.

When one of the personal requests at their Champion meet-n-greet was for a piggyback, Mirage was appropriately pleased that his humour was so appreciated.

~.~

A flash of panic jolted him as he reached for the grenade without thinking, whipping it back over the rock in an instant, the explosion still knocking them both on their asses. His shields cracked under the impact but he was still breathing, gaze finding her startled expression beside him even as her eyes shone silvery and she dragged him with her through the hole she'd torn in the air.

"Shit, nice _job_." she gasped after they tumbled out the other side and relayed their new position to Pathfinder.

Her eyes were wide when she looked at him, even though she looked much better composed than he felt. They'd been goners. A single second more and that grenade would have exploded right at their feet. Jeez. Talk about a close call. He forced his mouth to grin and ignored the painful jangling of adrenaline coursing his body, lifting his sore shoulders in a shrug.

"What can I say, I have cat-like reflexes."

He went a step further, flexing his arm muscles as she tugged a shield cell from her pack, and her wry smile was warm enough to soothe the remainder of his lingering fear.

"Hey, great getting us out." he returned, shrugging his own pack from his back.

When he offered her a fist bump, she rolled her eyes and deliberately pushed it aside with the palm of one hand, smiling when it made him laugh.

~.~

Mirage shifted closer to read the scrawl on the flashcard she was holding, feeling Wraith tense under him. She was giving off clear signs, so he drew his arm away as his other hand reached for the edges of the little card.

His stomach flipped as it always did at the romantic requests, his crazy imagination unable _not_ to envision him lifting Wraith up in that pose; her legs around his middle, his hands supporting her against his chest, head tipped back to look up at her, her face close enough to-

"Pass." he found enough breath to say, the heat of embarrassment flooding him as he swallowed and handed back the card and put some distance between them again.

Not only was that way across their unspoken boundaries, but it was clear from his partner's demeanour that she was very much not comfortable with it, which meant he wasn't comfortable with agreeing to it either.

There was also, whispered his conscience, the fact that he couldn't guarantee that such a pose wouldn't fill him with - the potentially overwhelming - urge to kiss her. And there was no point in encouraging what was already so deeply seeded in his heart, when she didn't want it too.

Mirage gave himself a full-body shake under the guise of playing the crowd, winking at them and grinning as the photographer handed him the next card.

~.~

He couldn't help but watch her face as she took in the photograph, loving to see the surprise in her eyes, that emotion he was pretty sure was delight. She looked… kinda happy, when the photos were good. She'd never used to care, and he still got the impression she thought their meet-n-greets were the worst part of winning, but lately he'd noticed…

What? A change? Half of a change? A partial change, almost like a change but only- Whatever, she was… different. Or maybe it was him, who was different. He knew the nightmares and endless worry were messing with his head. Maybe he was just seeing things that weren't there.

Maybe he just wanted to believe she liked the way they looked together on the pages he showed her. His treacherous heart thumped painfully, and he scrambled for a way to ease the tension he was feeling.

"I bet it blows up."

He'd even managed a weak chuckle, patting himself mentally on the back as he looked between her and the photograph in her hands. Wraith didn't say anything, a gentle frown appearing between her eyes, and Mirage wondered what he'd said wrong as the moment passed and her bland smile came back.

Even lying in bed later that night, Mirage worried over his concern for her, and what it was hiding in her eyes that made her seem so… sad.

~.~

Wraith looked worried, he'd decided. Not worried the way he'd been finding himself lately, but like something was nagging at her. He could see it lingering in the corners of her eyes. He wondered how to ask her. Despite their three years of friendship, and the fact that he would quite literally die for her, he hadn't really worked out how to get her to do real heart-to-hearts. Not yet.

He _would_, of course. He just hadn't _yet._

While Pathfinder was fulfilling his solo requests, Mirage scooped up a Duos pile, separated as they were into three, and made a show of settling next to her to show her them.

"What about this one?"

Her eyes met his briefly as she turned, faint smile touching her lips.

He liked that smile, that ghost of a smile, really. The first time he'd made her smile was one of his grandest achievements in his years as a legend, amongst his many wins and several plays he was especially proud of.

She groaned softly as she read, and gave him stink eye when she finished, looking at him like she was questioning his sanity. He laughed, and offered her a different one.

"Okay, okay. What about _this_ one?"

He watched her face morph, indignant, and laughed when her elbow connected with his ribs. When he chuckled, the eyebrow arched ever higher. Did she know how badly he wanted to kiss her when she looked at him like that? It was like she was _daring_ him to-

Focus.

He shifted away from the expectant hand, and shook his head.

"Oh, uh uh. I at least wanna see the good ones before you deny them."

Wraith huffed, the expelled breath blowing her fringe out a little as she looked off to the other side.

"Come on," he amended, settling again and holding the next between them like a peace-offering, "some of them aren't…"

He trailed off as his heart leapt. The audience member had asked for Mirage to press Wraith up against one wall and kiss her senseless.

Okay, so they'd asked for him to hold her between his chest and the wall, and look at her '_lovingly_' but…

His stomach squirmed as the attraction flooded his system, at the picture in his head of her, held safely there, with the wall at her back, her arms around his neck and their faces close enough that-

"Ridiculous."

Elliot winced without meaning to, hearing the dismissive bite of the short tone. His heart panged. He swallowed the flush of shame, for letting himself think of her like that when clearly, she had no interest in even entertaining the fans with their requests.

Guilt wriggled up his throat, for wanting her the way he did and for trying to push against her boundaries when he knew she was uncomfortable.

~.~


End file.
